


The First Date

by there_must_be_a_lock



Series: Trio of Inexcusable Fluff [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Rom Com Shenanigans, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/there_must_be_a_lock/pseuds/there_must_be_a_lock





	The First Date

Dean Winchester had seen you staggering drunk, and on one memorable occasion (for him; you had no recollection), he’d held back your hair while you puked on his shoes. Dean had seen you bleeding and bruised, sweaty, angry, PMSing, in your pajamas, covered in monster guts, you name it. Dean had reset your broken bones while you sat there cursing at him, and on one memorable occasion (for both of you), he’d given you a black eye. He’d seen you green and sweaty with the flu. He’d seen you asleep in the backseat of the Impala with drool down your chin. It wasn’t like you were trying to make a first impression, here.

And even though you totally, completely, 100% understood that, you were totally, completely, 100% freaking out.

It wasn’t like you had a ton of options when it came to your outfit. The lone slinky black dress in your arsenal was too much for dinner and a movie. Your choices basically boiled down to which t-shirt or flannel to wear with which pair of jeans, but for some reason that wasn’t making the decision any easier.

“Cas,” you called down the hallway. “Cas, I need you!”

When he arrived, seconds later, he looked slightly alarmed. “Is everything okay? You sounded like you were in trouble.”

“I don’t know what to wear,” you said plaintively.

Cas gave you one of his most epic _so sick of human shit_ faces. “You’re joking.”

“Really not.”

He looked upward, taking a deep breath, before answering you: “I am an ancient celestial being. I have helped avert the apocalypse. And you want me to be your stylist.”

“Yes, Cas, that is exactly what I’m asking you,” you snapped. “Just because the world isn’t ending for once, doesn’t mean this isn’t important.”

When he continued to give you that disgruntled stare, you countered with your best puppy-dog eyes and added, “Who else could I ask? You’re my best friend.”

“Very well,” he grumbled, but you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What are the options?”

“I think it has to be this pair of jeans. Which shirt? Is this v-neck too aggressive?”

“No, I hardly think green cotton can be called aggressive.”

You glared and fought the urge to stomp your foot. “I’m serious, Cas! I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to wear, I don’t know what we’re going to talk about, I don’t know… anything! Not when it comes to dating. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date.”

 _Let alone with someone I’ve been in love with for years,_ you didn’t say.

Cas’s expression softened a little. “The black shirt, I think. It’s flattering.”

“Okay, thanks,” you said, taking a deep breath. You held the shirt up to your chest.

“Dean stares at you no matter what you’re wearing,” Cas said, and you gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Cas. Can you ask Sam to come in, though? I think I need advice from someone who doesn’t wear the same trench coat every day.”

“Fair enough,” he said, with an exasperated sigh, and left. You tried on the black shirt and examined yourself critically in the mirror.

“Come in,” you said, when you heard Sam’s knock. “Do I look okay?”

He stood in the doorway and stared, open-mouthed; you couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in the way that usually meant he had a research-induced headache.

“No?”

“You guys live together,” he pointed out, with the _you’re being so slow oh my god_ tone he generally saved for Dean. “You’re gonna wear a t-shirt. You literally always wear a t-shirt.”

“Come on, Sam,” you begged. “I know this isn’t going to be one of those rom-com moments where I come down a staircase and take his breath away, but… give me something, here.”

Sam rubbed his eyes. “Okay. You look great, I think that shirt looks really nice on you, if you want another layer wear the gray flannel on top. Do you own any lipstick?”

“Yes,” you said, with a sigh of relief. “Okay, yes, that helps. Lipstick, lemme see…”

“For the record?” Sam said, and he waited until you were looking him in the eyes to continue. “I don’t know how it has escaped your notice, but you pretty much always take Dean’s breath away.”

You blushed and whispered, “Thanks, Sam.”

“Also? He’s just as nervous as you are.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was just down the hall telling him which t-shirt and flannel to wear,” he said, trying to hold back a laugh. “The pair of you, I swear, holy shit.”

Then he turned, closing the door quietly behind him, and you were left to grin at yourself in the mirror for one self-indulgent second before digging around frantically for your lipstick. The butterflies in your stomach continued to multiply. By the time you’d brushed your hair and finally decided that it was as good as it was gonna get, it was time to go, and you were so nervous your hands shook as you grabbed your purse.

There was a knock on your door. You opened it to find Dean, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, wearing a flannel (surprise) and a shy, hopeful, fucking gorgeous smile.

He offered you his hand. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you said breathlessly. You laced your fingers with his, and the butterflies somehow evaporated.

It wasn’t like this was a normal date, after all. It wasn’t like you didn’t know how to talk to him, how to have fun with him… this was Dean. This was your friend and road trip buddy and partner-in-crime, the man who’d been your rock for as long as you’d known him. He’d seen you through some of the scariest moments of your life. He’d been there for sleepless nights, for inside jokes, for hungover breakfasts, and for so many adventures.

As the two of you started down the hallway, you knew with an unshakeable certainty that this was just the start of another adventure.


End file.
